


it's always the quiet ones

by fated_addiction



Category: GOT7, K-pop, KARA (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 07:25:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4995541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The first time is an accident, as far as accidents go. </i>
</p><p> </p><p>Jackson Wang's guide to dating his best friend? Don't tell her a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's always the quiet ones

**Author's Note:**

> I need to stop watching cheesy dramas, y'all. They are going to give me a lot of cavities.

The first time is an accident, as far as accidents go. 

The bookstore is the midway point between her house, the coffee shop, and their dorm. Youngji can tell you honestly that she has never seen him here before. But he's never seen her here before so she supposes it's all equal measuring, equal parts. Sometimes an escape is just an escape.

It's her go-to place when rumors of KARA's contract negotiations run rampant and honestly, it's the most stressed she's ever been even though she knows the immediate outcome. Rumors are just rumors. You can say that about anything though. They're still heavy, still painful, still sharp enough to eat away at her. 

"Don't read the Internet," Hara tells her gently over the phone. "It'll drive you crazy. And stop worrying."

"Okay, eonni," she agrees, then laughs nervously and hangs up, only to march herself past her mother and sister with the excuse that she's going out for a walk and to grab a couple of gifts too. This is how she ends up ducking into the bookstore, like it's a habit, and greeting the owner with shy smile only to disappear somewhere between the misplaced fairy tales and the civil servant exam guides because, well, it's always in the back of her head.

Her coffee is sweating by now. When she sinks into the floor, tucking her legs to the side, she has to wipe it against her jeans to make sure she doesn't making noticeable rings anywhere. She picks up an exam guide, but doesn't open it.

Instead, she looks at her phone.

"Oh hey."

She looks up, eyes widening when Youngjae suddenly appears out of nowhere. He flashes a crooked smile. Her eyes are huge.

"Hi," she says. Then gathers her composure together, shifting so that she can greet him properly. Instead, he drops himself down next to her and she forces herself to relax. "I didn't see you," she offers apologetically.

He laughs quietly. "I just wanted to make sure it was you," he tells her. "I know your mom's place is nearby?" he ends on a question; they are not close. He intimidates her for a number of reasons.

"It is," she says. She smiles a little. "Sorry," she says easily too. He flushes and squirms a little. She barely catches it. "My mind is everywhere today."

"I know how that feels." He picks up her study guide, starting to thumb through it. "Second guessing yourself is the worst on these days."

It's not exactly what she needs to hear, or want, if anything, but it's something and behind that, he seems both genuine and honest. This feels like a surprise, she thinks. She smiles a little, relaxing into the spot next to him.

This is how they start to talk.

 

 

 

 

 

They trade numbers. It's weird. There's no timeline for that either. It's simple, "hey here is my number -- text me, okay?" and that's from him too, weirdly enough, since she's usually the most forward with Jackson's friends.

She hasn't told Jackson that she's been talking to Youngjae either. She feels slightly guilty, then not, since it's ridiculous and he's always said that as long as it's not Bambam, she's in the clear. Whatever that is supposed to mean.

But she likes Youngjae. She likes that he's quiet and unassuming, ridiculously funny and awkward in an unexpected way. She likes how they sort of fell into being friends without now _bangs_ or dramatics, kind of like they've always been friends without the awkward introductions or forced placements. She likes that he laughs at her jokes, then he surprises her with his, and sometimes, when they're especially shy, they sit there and they actually talk about music.

_meet me at the bookstore. - y_

She gets his text sometime after leaving the practice room, pulls the hood of her sweatshirt over her head, and heads out. She's strangely excited to see him. She doesn't really know how she feels about that.

She still makes a stop for coffees, buys a third for the shop owner because she's sure that it's late and they're close to closing and the last she was at the bookstore, the old man looked at them both and said, half-serious, "do you want a job?" It's the least she can do, you know.

When she arrives, Youngjae is at the counter talking with the old man. Wordlessly, she hands him his coffee. She guessed. A half a sugar and soy. She can't remember why she knows that. The old man brightens when she hands him his coffee too.

"With whipped cream," she says cheerfully, and he laughs.

The old man grins. "I'm leaving the key down here," he tells them. "Stay as long as you'd like -- just lock up after and leave the key in the mailbox."

She blinks, confused. Youngjae laughs, shaking the man's hand. It's a few more minutes before they're alone and when they are, he turns finally and smiles at her.

"You came."

Youngji blushes, biting her lip. "I feel like I just missed something," she says.

Youngjae laughs again. "Probably," he teases, taking a sip of his coffee. He then grabs her hand, pulling her forward. "I wanted to show you something."

His hand is warm as his fingers lace through hers. He gives her a gentle tug forward and she ends up following him behind the shelves, forgetting her coffee on counter in the front of the store.

"Rehearsal?" Youngjae asks.

She nods and her hood finally falls off her head. Her hair is pulled back into braids and a few strands are coming loose, framing her cheeks and jaw.

"We're going to Japan in a couple of weeks," she says. "More mini-concerts."

"You sound tired."

She stumbles forward, nearly falling into him. "I'm a little tired," she admits. "The choreography is pretty intense."

He doesn't let go of her hand. She spots the piano before he says anything, smiles too because it's kind of like a nice surprise.

"I wrote a song," he tells her. They sit together and he flips back the key cover. He bites his lip and looks a little shy. "I haven't shown anyone this one."

Youngji blinks. "When did you write it?"

"I've been sitting on it for awhile," he says, shrugging. His hands move over the keys and he starts to play a melody. "I don't have any words yet. But -- I don't know. It's silly. It's been keeping me up."

Her mouth quirks and she nudges him. "So play it," she says gently.

He makes a soft sound with his mouth, then obeys, becoming more comfortable and confident as his hands move against the keys. She can't help herself either -- she closes her eyes, leans lightly against him, and starts to hum along, her voice weaving into the sound that he plays.

If he's surprised, he doesn't show it. When he finishes play, he watches her and she really doesn't get the gaze that she's getting, halfway between unreadable and something else. Like he's trying to will her to understand.

"I really like your voice," he says, then visibly winces, ducking and sighing. "Sorry," he says, laughing. "I'm so awkward."

She laughs too. "I like that you're awkward."

He scoffs, grinning. His face is a little red. "Can you play?" he asks, changing the subject.

She nods, shy. It's the millions upon millions of voice lessons and music lessons that she's had since she was a kid. If she hadn't joined KARA, the company was going to train her and start pushing her to produce. She is by no means anywhere near the people she's worked with, but she can hold her own.

"My dad," she starts, her hands moving against the keys, "wanted me to be a concert pianist. My sister's studying opera." She laughs at the memory. "When we were kids, he used to tell us that we were going to be a traveling act."

She's a little rusty, but finds her way around the second or third bar of the arrangement, playing by memory mostly. She also watches him watch her, trying to pick apart what exactly it is about all of this, how suddenly he's just appeared and they're friends and it's really, really nice. He just gives nothing away with his face and another minute into her play, his hands join her on the keys and they're playing together.

"I wanted to be a police officer too," she says. "Much to my mother's dismay."

Youngjae smirks, then softens. "It's always been music for me," he says.

"I'm jealous of that." She finds herself opening up. "I feel like sometimes I'm too pragmatic or jaded because of the experiences that I've had, you know?"

"That's fair," he agrees. Then seriously: "But you're really talented, you know. And you're --" he swallows, blushing again, "-- really, really charming."

Youngji laughs. "Are you trying to woo me, Youngjae?"

That look comes back, the one where she has absolutely no clue where and how to place it. He leans forward, into her space, and she feels her heart launch itself into her throat, starting to throb and twist. Her lips part and he looks at her, really looks at her, searching for something that she wishes she could confirm for an answer, at the very least.

"What if I am?" he says, voice low.

Youngji can't find the words.

 

 

 

 

 

She's obsessing over this.

"Maybe he likes you," Hara teases when she tells her. Well, blurts it out really. Her eonni grins, ruffling her hair. "You do know that you're a million times oblivious to stuff like this, Youngji-ah."

She's not wrong. But it doesn't make any sense to her; she's the girl that you want to be honest to, up front and clear, otherwise it all goes over her head and is lost to everything else that she's trying to make some sense of in her life.

It doesn't make sense how it applies to the corner store either, or how she agreed to meet him here, but then, everything's always tied together.

"Jackson told you to call me," she says dubiously, for the third or fourth time. Her said best friend has _not_ responded to any of her text since she arrived. "Because," she repeats then, "I'm the only one that knows what _ramen_ he likes?"

Youngjae sighs. He looks a little embarrassed too, rubbing his face. "I drew the short straw," he says and she narrows her eyes, confused because he looks like he's lying, but isn't entirely sure. "Besides," he says and pulls out his wallet, then Jackson's credit card. "He gave me this."

"He's such a weirdo," she mutters.

They settle on buying snack for his dorm. She might as well hang out too, she tells herself. She did stupidly walk out all the way over here. They both decide to buy ramen for themselves, then manage to find a spot by the window as they wait for the few minutes for it to cook.

"Congrats," she says. "I saw you won your first trophy."

He laughs. "Thanks. Angst pays off, I guess."

She laughs too. "It's the smoldering camera glares," she teases. "The video's cool too."

He peels back the top to his ramen, digging in and smiling. "That means a lot," he says simply and she smiles back too, feeling impossibly shy. "We worked really hard," he tells her too. "I'm sure Jackson told you."

"Yeah." Her voice is dry. "He also reminded me that I didn't get him a comeback present like a good best friend or whatever. Then I told him that he missed my birthday, so."

"We could go buy you a present with his card," he teases.

She laughs, taking a bite of her ramen. "I could never, as much as I want to." Youngji nudges him, smiling. "Besides, _you_ should buy me a gift with your own money," she teases too.

He laughs warmly. The sound is strange to her, mostly because she's still sort of getting used to it. She's also become one of those people, picking apart the pitch and tone, wondering about the difference and levels -- could she tell if he's lying? Or if he's teasing her? Or if he likes her --

Stop it, she tells herself. Eat your food.

"I can do that," he says. There's a change in his voice. He seems a little shy. "Do you want anything in particular?"

Youngji shakes her head. "I was just teasing. You don't need to get me anything."

Youngjae looks disappointed, then sort of sulks into his ramen. She blinks, studying him, and then reaches forward, stealing a bite of his noodles too.

"I just like spending time with you." It's half a confession, weirdly enough. She can't stop herself from rambling through. "It's nice," she says. "Unexpected -- I always was just really intimidated by you because you never really talked to me, I guess. But this is really nice. And I look forward to talking to you... It's a little cheesy, but that's really the gift."

She groans. Because she means it. It's stupidly cheesy. He laughs right next to her because he knows and when she meets his gaze, in the window reflection, she catches him smiling and relaxing all over again.

"I like spending time with you too."

It's soft enough, when he says it, warm too, and she comes face to face for the first time, with this overwhelming need to kiss him. It catches her completely off guard, unsettles her in a way that she doesn't know how to handle. Her reaction feels so heavy; her mouth is dry, she presses her tongue against the roof of her mouth too, trying to swallow and look everywhere but at him. He's come out of nowhere, she tells herself. Breathe. He's your friend.

Her heart is still racing.

 

 

 

 

 

Jackson drags her into the dorm. His grip is tight, his mouth narrowed into an accusation.

"You've been avoiding me," he tells her.

She snorts, hitting his arm. "I am not," she mutters. "You know where I live. You see my _mom_ more than you see me."

"True," he agrees. "All part of my master plan though," he says like she's supposed to get it. But she doesn't.

She's here for movie night anyway. The only other girl that shows up is Seulgi, who she loves and has become fast friends with, thanks to an odd combination of Amber and Sunny. Seulgi has her own weird thing going on with Jaebum and Jiyoung, wedged between them on the couch like the three of them are the most natural thing ever.

She spots the others too, who wave and greet her -- Mark even comes over to hug her, denied by Jackson as he pushes his friend away.

"Where's Youngjae?" she asks, frowning. Both Jackson and Mark get this _glint_ in their eyes.

"In his room," Jackson supplies. "You should go get him. Horror film night is mandatory in this family. The bloodier, the better."

She snorts and finds herself agreeing to go pull Youngjae out of his room. She follows the narrow hallway down; it's familiar and she's been here plenty of times, under the radar even. Youngjae's room is at the end of the hall and she knocks, opening the door carefully and peeking her head in.

He's on his bed and scrambles to sit up, eyes wide as she opens the door a little more. She smiles at him.

"Hi."

Youngjae seems surprised to see her. "I didn't know you were coming."

"I didn't either," she confesses. She's been back from Japan for a day now. She's still exhausted. "But Jackson dragged me here and told me that I had to come."

She steps into his room shyly. It's probably too forward and, she tells herself, reaching for his headphones and sitting on the bed, _Roommate_ probably ruined her for all and any kinds of social decorum. She sits next to him and pulls an earbud into one of her ears.

The melody is easy to recognize. She smiles a little, meeting his gaze.

"You're working on it," she says.

"Slowly," he admits, and already, she's humming along, watching him. "I'm not really into scary movies," he tells her too. "I'm the worst at them."

"I can hold your hand," she says. Her smile is bright and he laughs. "I'll defend you from all the ghosts."

Youngjae grins. "Seriously?"

"Of course," she nods.

It's like this: together, on that bed, she's aware of how close he is, how suddenly they go from sitting next to each other, to shoulder to shoulder, and she can smell his cologne, which is nice, by the way, and even sensible -- she likes boys who are sensible; more so, their hands are standing next to each other and she gets braver and braver by the second, if only to make the point, shifting her fingers and grabbing his hand.

"I like it," she says, meeting his gaze.

"I'll work harder on it," he says too.

Something passes between the two of them and she finds herself smiling, really smiling because her heart is racing, she's flushed, and oh _god_ she really, really wants to kiss him.

"We should go out there," he says quietly. He's leaning closer and she starts to shift, only to be closer too. "I'm sure those idiots are going to barge in," he says.

"Probably," she agrees, and her voice is soft.

She kisses him first. "Probably," she says again and when she kisses him, it's sharp and clumsy and surprisingly feverish. They press closer to each other and the headphones fall, somewhere between them, just as he opens his mouth back against her.

She tastes every breath, every shared sigh and he turns a hand into her hair, tangling his fingers tightly. It feels like it's not enough, like they're not there yet, that they're always going to be chasing whatever feeling this is, how it's growing between them. Her hand makes a fist in his shirt and then he's holding her tightly, so tightly, that she begins to feel dizzy with awareness and overwhelmed by the smell of him.

It doesn't matter who breaks away first. Her eyes are closed. Her lips are bruised.

His voice is low. "Scary movie?" he asks, huskier with each word.

Youngji manages to swallow.

"Scary movie," she agrees.

 

 

 

 

 

They sit away from everyone else on the floor, sharing a mess of pillows. It's dark in the living room and she's holding his hand, he's stroking the back of hers with his fingers, paying no attention to the muffled cries of Jackson or how Mark keeps hitting Bambam in the face with a pillow every time he makes some kind of comment like "dude, I so know who the killer is!" because he's that friend at family movie night.

No one is reacting to them which, well, is curious in its own way. She doesn't have the energy to pay attention to that either.

She still drifts, halfway into sleep, and her head falls against Youngjae's shoulder. He shifts and adjusts, making sure that they sort of fold into each other, as if they've been doing that all along.

"You're supposed to be protecting me from the ghosts," he whispers into her ear.

Her mouth curls, but she relaxes and doesn't open her eyes.

"I'm still here," she says and makes no effort to move. Youngjae grins into her hair, his mouth grazing her forehead. 

Later, she gets a text from Jackson anyway.

 _you're welcome_ , it says.


End file.
